


la petite mort (the little death)

by guan_lupe



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 14:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14916801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guan_lupe/pseuds/guan_lupe
Summary: surreal and potentially triggering; tread carefully if you're sensitivelight ღ the world





	la petite mort (the little death)

He's still the little gay boy with a ruled notebook. Tapered fingers, trembling before the words of the world. Names. Nigerian names, Norwegian names. He thinks, in English, that sounds flowery. But no, he isn't floral. He's haiku, as flat and sharp as his handwriting. Angled like his people. Globular like those in the west but only because the eyeballs connected to his brain are round, and his arteries are worm-holes, blood whirling. Globular only in the blood-red sundisk on the flag of the Land of the Rising Sun. Still, flat.

Heart attack.

Those ugly mugs stare from his laptop. Those apes. He is the lithe angel. Misa, though, makes him feel like a starving twink. She found his first white hair, the other day. He found a bruise on her skull, that he gave her.

Fold, fold, neatly folded. Human organs are folded. Humans (ningen) are unlike vegetables, which breathe by unfolding. Light makes Misa iron his shirts with starch. He no longer handles any of her globes. She is death, fermented fruit and animal. Useful in her way, to manipulate.

Those ugly eyes stare from his laptop. Those sad looks. Those swine. Pink, yellow, shit-brown, black like a monkey, but racist God is not. Wink one eye. The all-seeing eye of Kira.

Light once killed a white anthropologist who randomly appeared one night on a program. He'd remarked on the evolution of far-east Asians having flat faces and fold-less eyelids. Light wrote his name and the details of his death. Misa told him the next morning that the man made news by committing suicide repeatedly smashing his face against the National Diet Building. Light told her, "our blood is pure."

The filth of the world. Sick, sick. Light is frightened. The jihadists don't seem afraid of dying. Their melismatic writing-system goes on forever. Japanese writing looks like houses. Houses collapse. But houses also protect. Light doesn't know the Semitic languages; he writes their names in Arabic with difficulty. The names he can find.

Moon light. Cycle blood.

Hairy cunts and floppy cocks are the same to Light. Shameful signs of the animal. Useful in their way, to manipulate. L's frequent flatulence in bed, from all the sugar, once made Light almost strangle him. L's curious eyes stopped him. L told Light he should learn to let himself go, more, "Kira."

Metal handcuffs, flesh prisons. L was never afraid to die. Light is frightened. Light used the waste of the world (Rem's loyalty to Misa) to eradicate L. L was hetero. L and Misa.

SPK. That little shit Near knows the labyrinths of the occult, and Misa's too much of a real witch to help. Near is too near, like a woman is near, breathing down men's necks. But God is light. Light - god, light revealed. Mello'd been an easy kill. That's what you get with the Yakuza: enthusiasm to die. Children. Near and Mello were L's children. Little minds, playing with divine light.

Daddy. Gone.

Ryūk snickers. Ryūk terrified Light once, toward the end of the saga, when he called him "buttercup" with sober affection. Light couldn't breathe.

Light is sterile. It's never discussed. Misa knows, somewhere in the depths of her humanity, in her human nature. Nature has a funny way of taking care of itself. Nature always wins, in one way or another. Light takes a great blow at the world, yes, but his seed does not take root. His own genes won't pass.

Light is flat yet round, hidden yet exposed. If you shine light through a prism, seven arcs of color appear. However, light is binary: infra beyond red, and ultra beyond violet. In order to know one, you examine the other. One light is never truly captured. Flat yet ultimately round, hidden yet ultimately exposed. Light Yagami's world arched in a perfect circle for every moon-worshipper to stare at; for the rational moon taken by itself causes not life but death. Not sanity, but madness.

Lunacy: from the Latin _lunaticus_ , means "of the moon" or "moonstruck."

月


End file.
